Fallen
by Illarya
Summary: "I'm right here, aren't I? So why can't you see me?" Being alone was supposed to be inconsequential in the long run. Just a small price she was more than willing to pay. - More inside.


Summary: "I'm right here, aren't I? So why can't you see me?"

She was the daughter of a vice admiral, a protege of one of the greatest soldier, and a great Marine in the making. And she established all that within twenty three years of her life. Her rise through the rank was exceptional and they hailed her as a prodigy. She had a whole future ahead of her and a whole world waiting for her to explore. Being alone was a small price she was willing to pay. And then she woke up with a bloody knife in her hand. OC centric. Potential Marco x OC in the future.

* * *

 **.Prologue.**

 _The room was dark and devoid of life when she entered. The only light source coming in was from the moon with its silvery pale light shining through the window and the candle on top of a shelf. Its flame flickered as she shut the door behind her. The lock slid in its place and a table was put in front of the door as an extra measure._

 _The shouting and the sound of footsteps drew near, drowning the sound of her unstable breathing and rapid heartbeat. There was nowhere to go. She opened the window and felt her hope wilts (was there even hope, to begin with? She no longer knew the answer to that.) It led to the sea. Dark and unforgiving. She sat on the edge, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. The scent of the sea and the breeze were enough to make her almost forget about her current predicament._

 _It wasn't supposed to end like this._

 _The door started rattling from the force of people banging on it, and she snapped out of it. Dread pooled in the pit of her stomach. She was running out of time. She looked down again; either way, she would die, without the chance to defend her honour. Ignoring the muffled sound and the distinct 'give me the axe!', she braced herself. When the door finally gave in, she threw herself to the large body of water below, feeling the wind hurtling against her body as she plummeted a hundred and fifty feet down. And finally, she submitted herself to the cold and dark embrace of the abyss below._

* * *

 **.Chapter I.**

When the phone rang that afternoon, Sengoku had expected everything. But the death of one of his vice admiral was not high on that list. On one hand, death wasn't an uncommon occurrence in their line of work. Enforcing justice did require some sacrifice. However, Kalos Arianrhod was off duty. She was out on a vacation with her lover. Her daughter left behind with only her grandmother in their little house in Gigili Village of West Blue.

That was why Sakazuki was there, right in front of her, in her house. It was barely six in the evening when he dropped by with the news. He had heard about her; her mother wasn't exactly quiet with singing her praise, always going on about her daughter with adoration.

 _My daughter just spoke her first word; I'm a proud mama!_

 _Look at what my little girl gave me for mother's day!_

And the one which piqued his interest the most,

 _Yesterday, my daughter activated her haki. I don't think she realised that. She's barely eight. Can you believe that?_

It was said years ago with pride and a hint of sadness. He supposed the alcohol in her system might have been why she told him but it kept resurfacing in his mind lately. It was actually part of the reasons why he accepted coming here. Otherwise, he would delegate this task to someone else. The other part was due to his current location, which coincides with their hometown.

Dark eyes peered up to him from behind the doorway. She didn't cry as he told her the news, even as her grandmother sniffled and ushered him in. The old woman offered him tea, which he politely refused, before busying herself in the kitchen and leaving him with the girl as they assessed each other.

She wasn't anything like her mother. 'Must have taken after her father then.' he scoffed inwardly. The only similarity he could find was the mole under her right eye and the one under her chin. He ignored the same feeling that usually arises whenever he thought about how in the dark he is about the girl's father. Even Kuzan told him to "let it go because Ari obviously doesn't want to talk about it either."

Sengoku told him she'd be thirteen soon. To him, she barely looked ten. Scrawny. She looked almost...fragile.

And then she blinked. And he blinked. And whatever thought processing in his mind dissipated. Not one for pleasantries, he cleared his throat and told her the reason why he dropped by. After he said his piece, the clattering from the kitchen stopped. But the girl merely looked at him. She blinked again. That slow closing and opening of her eyes.

"Will you be okay, Grandmama?" she asked without averting her gaze from him.

There was shuffling from the kitchen and the old woman peeked from the doorway. "Can we please have some time to talk about this?" she threw him a pleading look. It was only then that the child decided to turn away from him and cross the room to her grandmother.

He sighed but consented to her request. "My ship will be leaving first thing tomorrow morning," he addressed the girl, "come and seek me out if you wish to join me."

From the corner of his eyes, he could discern the small nod of her head but otherwise, she remained silent. When there was no longer any respond, he turned around and saw himself out.

The next day, the same dark eyes peered up at him once more when he opened his door. He didn't bother asking how she knew where he was staying.

* * *

When the door closed, Marjorie turned away from her and went back to the kitchen. She followed suit and seated herself in front of their dining table as her grandmother busied herself with warming up their meal.

Dinner was served in silent, accompanied only by the sound of spoons and forks hitting the plates. After their meal was gone, she did the dishes as per usual.

"I did the dishes, Grandmama," she said, placing the last plate in the cupboard.

"Gwylan," her grandmother called her, "do you want to go?"

She paused, turning around to face her grandmother. Her eyes stared into her grandmother's eyes. The same eyes as her late mother's. They always seemed to retain a certain youthful energy in them. But right now, for the first time, she could see the weariness in her eyes. The lines on her face seemed more prominent. Gwylan moved until she was in front of her grandmother, her arms moving to circle around the old woman.

Marjorie finally crumbled. Sobbing, she pulled Gwylan closer and kept murmuring her name, "Oh, Gwylan."

Through it all, Gwylan made sure she doesn't shed any tears. Her grandmother was already so heartbroken there was no need for another person to cry. Someone had to stay calm and console the forlorn woman.

Nothing was said between them and eventually, the crying slowed down. Marjorie dabbed her sleeves on her eyes to dry any excess tears. One of her hands cupped Gwylan's cheek. "You are so young," she told her, "You don't have to go."

She knew she didn't have to. But there was no denying that a part of her wanted to go. Her mother had never told her to follow in her footsteps. Never told her to become a marine. Her mother kept avoiding her request to train her. But now, there was someone who was willing to do it. And she knew he was strong.

She wanted to be stronger.

She wanted to see the world.

And he was her ticket.

So she pulled away from her grandmother's embrace. And she let her, keeping each other at arm's length.

"Grandmama," she took in a deep breath and looked into Marjorie's eyes, repeating her question, "will you be okay?"

They stared at each other for a whole minute before her grandmother sighed, shaking her head. "I will be alright, child. Go and follow your dream."

They exchanged hugs one more time before Gwylan pulled away and went to her room, doing her best to ignore another bout of sobbing from the kitchen. Relief flooded her system; she didn't know what she would do if her grandmother decided she couldn't go. She didn't know if she had enough courage to leave. She didn't want to think about it. Instead, she busied herself packing whatever necessities she would need - clothes, toothbrush, soap - and pretended not to notice her own thoughts.

When morning came, she rose from her bed. She hadn't slept a wink. Too many things were occupying the empty space inside her mind. It wormed its way to every crevice, even the ones she tried to keep hidden. There were traces of tears pooling in her bedsheet. Her eyes felt heavy but she forced herself to get up.

There was no sign of her grandmother. But she knew the old woman was already awake. Breakfast was set on the table and next to it was a sword - the same sword she had seen on her mother's person - and a piece of paper. She could make out her grandmother's handwriting on it.

 _This cavalry sword is our family heirloom. It has saved many lives from your great grandfather's days. It's yours now. May it continue to protect you._

 _Love, Grandmama._

 _P.S.: Come visit me whenever you are in the area._

Fifteen minutes later, Gwylan was on her way to the inn where Sakazuki was situated at, following the illuminated silhouette of the vice admiral, with her bag on her back and a sword nesting in her clutch.


End file.
